


Caretaking in Desire

by soroga



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Delirious Victim, Emetophilia, Groping, M/M, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Vomiting, kinkmeme fill, rapist pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24444127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soroga/pseuds/soroga
Summary: Sylvain doesn't think he's ever seen Felix this weak and helpless.It's kind of hot, actually.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Caretaking in Desire

Sylvain finds Felix hunched over a basin in the upper dormitory washroom, retching with such force that his shaking arms are barely able to hold him up over the edges of the sink beneath him.

“Wow,” Sylvain says.

“Shut up,” Felix rasps before making another terrible heaving noise, a stream of yellow-green liquid spurting out of his mouth and into the basin below.

Uncalled for, as far as Sylvain is concerned. He wasn’t even being sarcastic. There really is something strangely compelling about the sight of Felix, head bowed and shoulders hunched, his whole body trembling with the effort of staying upright as he keeps vomiting into the sink. Felix is so obsessed with being strong all the time; maybe that’s what makes this weakness so captivating.

And it _is_ weakness. Felix flinches as Sylvain kneels beside him and feels his forehead, but he doesn’t move away because he can’t. He’s entirely helpless.

Sylvain licks his lips. 

Felix moans and keeps vomiting, another dribble of sour liquid escaping from his mouth. His forehead is hot and slick with sweat. Sylvain lets his hand slip down the side of Felix’s face, cupping Felix’s clammy cheek briefly before grabbing the back of his neck. That’s hot too, taut and trembling under his hand as Felix’s neck keeps tensing with each miserable heave of his body. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this sick,” Sylvain says casually, hand sliding down Felix’s shoulderblades and to his lower back. He rubs there in small circles, feeling how hot Felix’s body is beneath the thin barriers of his vest and shirt. Then, because he can, he slips his hand underneath those. 

“Mnf,” Felix says, panting. Is that a protest? Sylvain can’t tell. For once, Felix doesn’t have the energy for a smart remark, much less anything else. Sylvain has all the time in the world to stroke all the way up and down Felix’s back, feeling every inch of his heated skin, the strong muscles of his back, the cute little dip of his spine. 

He lets his hand circle around to Felix’s front, wrapping his arm around Felix in a loose hug in the process. Felix’s stomach is tight and quivering; his abdomen is tense all over, the muscles there worn out already just from vomiting. 

“Wow,” Sylvain repeats without meaning to. His other hand comes up too, slipping under Felix’s shirt to rub his nipples, teasing them with his fingertips and rolling them one at a time under his thumb before he grabs a pec and squeezes that, too. Felix’s chest isn’t that big, but there’s still enough there for Sylvain to sink his fingers into. 

Felix makes a little questioning moan, arms shaking as he rests his sweaty forehead against the basin. For the moment, it seems he’s between waves. But he’s no more collected because of it - if anything, he seems more delirious now. Barely able to speak, much less fight. 

Sylvain swallows, looking at the back of Felix’s head. His bun’s half-undone, sweaty strands of hair curling limply against the back of his head and sliding down the sides of his face. Sylvain should probably hold his hair for him as he vomits.

Instead, Sylvain shuffles on his knees without letting go of Felix so that his lower body is behind Felix’s. With both of them kneeling like this, and Felix gripping the basin so desperately, he’s just the right height to…

Sylvain grinds his hips forward, rubbing his erection against Felix’s ass. 

Yeah. It’s just right.

It definitely doesn’t feel _wrong_ , anyway. Sylvain’s always gotten something out of taking care of Felix - why should this be any different? 

He rubs Felix’s tight, heaving chest one last time before he lets his hand slip back to Felix’s pants, pulling them down to mid-thigh. Felix stirs at this, making a little noise that could be a protest or could just be confused, but Sylvain ignores him, pulling down his own pants and underclothes too.

“There we go,” he says nonsensically, grinding his cock between Felix’s cheeks, letting the head catch on his hole with every lazy thrust. It looks so little with his cock against it, tightly furled and tempting. He can barely imagine it stretching to fit him. Felix has a fever; he must be so hot inside right now.

What if he fucked him for real? He doubts it’d make Felix feel better. At least, not right away. Maybe Sylvain could fuck him so hard he fucked the sickness right out of it, making Felix vomit again with every thrust. He could empty Felix out and fill him at the same time.

Sylvain moans and thrusts a little faster. Felix is so drenched with sweat that it feels filthily wet, like Felix’s body is doing it just for him, accommodating him even if Felix doesn’t know what’s going on.

There’s one other way Felix could accommodate him, though.

Sylvain helps him get there. He gropes Felix’s sides lazily with the arm he still has wrapped around him, then uses that as an anchor at the same time that he finds Felix’s stomach with his other hand and presses up, _hard_.

The reaction is instantaneous; Felix’s whole body jerks. He only barely manages to tilt his mouth back over the sink before he’s vomiting again, long streaks of yellow and green streaming out of his mouth one after the other. It comes in waves; he vomits, then gasps desperately, his broken breaths dissolving into endless coughing like he can’t help himself, and then he vomits again. 

Each retch makes his body shake and jolt all over. Each one moves his ass against Sylvain’s cock. Sylvain’s stopped thrusting for the moment, just watching and letting the shaky, desperate movements of Felix’s body do the work for him. That’s enough to get him close. It’s probably for the best he doesn’t have any lube on him; there’s no way he’d last. 

Sylvain leans forward more, his upper body nearly pressed against Felix’s shaking form, and slides his hand up to Felix’s throat. Why not? Felix can’t stop him. 

He feels Felix’s panting through the delicate skin there. When Felix starts throwing up again, he feels it - feels his throat opening up, feels the way it rushes out of him, completely uncontrollable. 

He can’t take it any more. He leans back again, groping Felix’s ass and thighs as he thrusts hard between his cheeks, still watching Felix vomit helplessly as he chases his peak. 

It crashes over him _hard_ as he’s pressed against the backs of Felix’s thighs, squeezing one of Felix’s ass cheeks in one hand and feeling his tense abdomen in the other, thrusting up and coming in long ropes all over the small of Felix’s back. He moans and keeps thrusting, squeezing harder, feeling the way his hand against Felix’s stomach makes Felix jolt helplessly and retch again. 

He slumps backwards, panting, as Felix’s wet coughs dissolve into whimpers. Sylvain knows he’d never let himself make that sound if he could help it, and it makes him want to go again. Maybe in a few minutes, if he can manage it. 

Felix ends up panting, too, still gripping the sink helplessly. His mouth stays wide open, a perfect tunnel waiting for more to stream out of it.

It gives Sylvain an idea. A terrible one, maybe, but why not? 

He gathers his come off of Felix’s shaking back, scooting around to sit beside Felix again.

Felix is messier than ever. His hair’s almost completely out of its bun, plastered to his sweaty, pale face. Little trails of drool and vomit cover his chin and cheeks, and his eyelashes are wet under his mostly-closed eyes. He barely seems to notice Sylvain is there; his face tilts towards Sylvain a little, but he’s so out of it and so exhausted just from trying to throw up in the right place that that’s all he can do. 

Sylvain tenderly brushes his hair out of the way with his clean hand. His other hand, still covered in come, goes to Felix’s open lips, two fingers going inside. Deep inside.

Felix’s eyes fly open at the same time Sylvain’s come-covered fingers hit the back of his throat. Sylvain can't help but smile at him as he feels Felix start to gag around his fingers. 

“Don’t worry, Felix,” he says, “It’s all coming out anyway, right?”


End file.
